


Two o'clock and all's well.

by numbika



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bittersweet, One Shot, Short One Shot, kinda angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 02:47:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbika/pseuds/numbika
Summary: Sergeant Samuel Vimes sat in front of Patrician's office. He rested his helmet on his leg, leaning against the chair's back. He felt a growing annoyance as he listened to the clock above his head.





	Two o'clock and all's well.

Sergeant Samuel Vimes sat in front of Patrician's office. He rested his helmet on his leg, leaning against the chair's back. He felt a growing annoyance as he listened to the clock above his head. The ticking made no sense, not a single living creature would remain sane for a long time under it.

It was too early for him, he didn't know the exact time - and his stubbornness stopped him from looking up - but it was still too early, especially with a dry throat. He slowly knocked on his helmet a couple of time, then pushed his foot to the ground when it started to move rhythmically up and down for the fourth time.

The ruler sent a message to him last night to appear next day at his office. As if he didn't have enough trouble as a Sergeant. The Night Watch was left without a captain, and he whenever tried to talk about that with Colon he always wriggled his way out of the conversation. Week after week the people left the Night Watch to join the Day Watch, or to look for a completely different job.   

Vimes grimaced when he looked down to his badge. Sometimes he also thought about how would feel to walk on the streets without it being in the evening fog or rain. But these thoughts were always followed by guilt appearing from nowhere, and starting to kick them. And, of course, the watchman had the tendency to just dissolve all that mess in alcohol.

The Night Watch became obsolete as time passed, and no one gave a damn about it.

At least not anyone who could actually do anything about it, he said to himself in lonely dawns. One Sergeant couldn't do anything, only following the laws of the city.

In addition, the thieves were now encompassed into an official guild and could lawfully commit unlawful things. The Patrician shaped the city like something...like something...

Vimes sighed rubbing his face.

'You think too much about it, kid, just be careful not to do it too loud.' Old Captain Escha said long ago, before he was replaced by Scissor, and then he too left explaining it with his weak knees.

The Night Watch were struck by disaster again and again and now there was only a handful of watchmen remained in service.

He looked up at the watch, then stood up, took his helmet under his arm and knocked on the door. He waited for a second then opened it.

Inside, Patricia sat at his desk with his pen in his hand and wrapped up a few sheets in front of him.

"Sergeant Samuel Vimes, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Sir." He straightened his back and his eyes became glassy. He over the years to do this when he was near or had to talk with certain high ranking people.

"I was told that there is a sudden vacancy in the rank of captain, in the Night Watch."

Wonse stood beside Patrician, he only glanced up once at the arrivals of the city guard, and since then he concentrated on his notes occasionally writing down something.

"Yes, sir." Answered Vimes to a point next to the head of the Patrician.

"And who would do you think would be the right person to fill the post?"

Vimes's mouth twitched, but he didn't answer right away.

"Well? I suppose there are a couple of officers who has the adequate age and experience to guide the Night Watch properly."

For the first time, Patricia looked up at the man standing in front of his desk.

"Sir."

It was the Patrician's turn to stay in quite for a couple of minutes. "Was that supposed to be an answer Sergeant?"

"Er, the thig is sir, that we don't know who could be the perfect choice."

"Really? That must be a bother." The Patrician raised an of his eyebrow and it made the watchman's palm starting to itch.

"But the matter can be remedied soon, I believe" he glanced down at the pages only for a second "What about Sergeant Colon? He could be the new captain."

"Fred? But he's" Vimes was desperate to find the right, and reasonable words " he is a born Sergeant sir, he was always better at... smoothing over things? And at teaching the rookies."

Or he would be, if there were any rookies at all in the last year.

The secretary smiled slightly into his notes, then put a paper in front of the Patrician.  He glanced up at Vimes and held his gaze long enough to force him to nervously exhale a little trough his nose.

"I see, yes, the training of the newcomers." Patrician nodded slowly. "Well then, maybe you should be the captain of the Night Watch. You have more than the necessary experience, if I am not mistaken you served the city at least 10 years, and if my memories are true you come from a lineage of city guards."

Vimes sanity cried out for a drink to drown himself into.

 The higher the title means more responsibility, more work, and more trouble.

A Sergeant can't really do anything, but a Captain...

 _Come on, Vimes_ , a quiet but cynical and coarse voice spoke, which for the first time in a long time he couldn't suppress. _Who on the Disc would actually care what the Night Watch is doing?_ _'Two o'clock and all's well.'_

No…

"Vimes?" The voice of Patricius flooded the man like clear water "It was a long night for you, wasn't it? You should go and rest. And I congratulate. Don't let me detain you, captain."

And just like that, the ruler and his secretary turned back to their own tasks.

The newly minted captain of the Night Watch saluted, and shut the door tightly behind him as he left.

He was sure that a significant part of the conversation was done without him, although he was present the whole time.

His legs moved on autopilot, bringing him through the streets of the city, as his thoughts ordered themselves, and then shrugged one by one.

So that’s what became of the Night Watch. The ruler of the city gives the empty ranks without question, while people leave the Watch without question.

Captain, they pushed the whole Watch to you, he thought.

_'Two o'clock and all's well.'_

Captain Samuel Vimes eased himself into the copper's walk and searched for the nearest place to drown his thoughts once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the reading!  
> The only funny thing about this fic is that when I translated it my word kept changing the Patrician name to Patricia or Patrick. :D  
> Have a nice day!


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